End of All Things
by whispered touches
Summary: So, before you can change your mind - before it's too late - you kiss him. -Annabeth, in Mount St. Helens. One-shot.


End of All Things

"Get out," Percy says.

And all you can think and say and breathe is - _what?_

What?

Because your heart is just _breaking_ as he looks at you; his jaw is set and his face is full of determination, but you can tell by the way his chest rises and falls too quickly and the way his eyes are too bright, too sharp (too beautiful) that he's scared, he's _terrified_, and that _hurts_.

The lump in your throat makes it feel as though it's on fire, even without the heat and the lava from the volcano. Smoke must be billowing into your eyes, because they're suddenly watering, and -

And in that moment, it hits you -

It hits you -

That this could be the end.

Forget the monsters and swords and Titans and everything else in between that was so dangerous; forget the scares that made your stomach lurch like you missed a step going down stairs when you thought you might lose him. This time, you don't think - you _know_, you know he can't make it out of this even if he fights and fights and fights (and dies) -

But you can.

And if Percy doesn't make it out with you - well, you'll wish you're dead right along with him, won't you?

"I'm not leaving you," you say, and you mean it with all your being, all your soul.

"I've got a plan," Percy says. "I'll distract them. You can use the metal spider - maybe it'll lead you back to Hephaestus. You have to tell him what's going on."

And your heart snaps _right in two_, because his voice is just shaking all over and his hands are clenched into fists to stop their trembling and he doesn't have a plan, he _doesn't_. And the only thing that's going on is _he's going to die._

You don't want to say it aloud: That'll make it a solid, irreversible fact, a truth that can't be unsaid, and it'll be real - but you've never been good at controlling yourself when it comes to him, and -

"But you'll be killed!"

You both wince at how harsh it sounds. It's getting harder for you to breathe.

"I'll be fine," he says, but he's _lying_, he's lying to you, he won't be fine, he'll be _dead_ and not even Hades himself will bring him back, and suddenly his shaking stops, as if he's found a reason to be strong. "Besides, we've got no choice."

And he's not lying.

Because he's right, isn't he?

_And lose a love to worse than death_.

You can't fight prophecies.

And you _hate_ him right now, for being right, for lying to you, for having the courage to do what he's about to do. You _hate_ him for leaving you - and why can't he promise you what you promised him? Why does he have to abandon you just like everyone else?

Why does he have to say good-bye?

So -

Before you can change your mind -

Before it's too late -

You kiss him.

More than a peck but less than anything else, it wipes every thought from your mind as you try and try and try to tell him those things you can't tell him, want to tell him but _can't_, and you can taste the surprise and fear and farewell on his lips.

And then -

Before he can respond -

Before you lose your will -

You pull away. Percy's looking a little dazed, staring at you like he's never seen you before - and your chest constricts a little painfully, because this is the _last time_ he ever will look at you.

The last time.

"Be careful, Seaweed Brain."

It's not going to change anything.

You sweep your hat on just in time to hide your tears -

And you turn -

And you run -

And you don't look back.

And you think that if you did use the spider right now, you wouldn't be scared, you wouldn't scream, because not even the longest, most painful, throat-tearing drawn-out yell could portray how scared you really are of this, of this running and running not looking back.

You're just heading out of the forge when it happens: an explosion that makes the walls tremble and the world tilt and twirl. You trip and slam your head into stone and air is ripped from your lungs; behind you, you look through a curtain of haze and the closing entrance and can see fire erupting in every direction.

Something inside of you dies along with him.

Your legs give out and you crash to the ground and you sit against the tunnel wall and you press your throbbing forehead into your knees and you lock your hands behind your head -

And you cry.

You let tears stream down your face and you _cannot_ breathe _at all_ and you're just gasping, gulping down nothing and nothing and nothing -

And this is the end.

And you shiver and shudder and shake, cry and wail and sob, left all alone in the Labyrinth.

* * *

_A/N: A birthday/Christmas present double for Zoe, whose birthday is Thursday, and Madison, whose birthday was... um, August 27? I think? Sorry if I got it wrong. :P You guys rock!_

_So, anyway, yeah. Mount St. Helens, I think, was severely ignored in the book. Percy was going to die, both of them knew that there was hardly any chance of him getting out - Rick really didn't do it justice. :/ And now you have this wonderful one-shot!_

_Expanding on that, I WILL NOT be continuing with this story. It is and shall remain a one-shot, no matter how many reviews I get. Sorry! I've got a lot on my plate - mostly Harry Potter._

_Reviews would make. My. Life. Even if it's just, "I loved it!" or "So awesome!" you're going to get a virtual cookie from me, I promise. Obviously, reviews are much appreciated. ^-^_

_Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it._

_~whispered touches_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson. It belongs to Rick Riordan. I am not Rick Riordan. Therefore, I do not own Percy Jackson. (Although if Rick gave it to me, I wouldn't be opposed. :P)_


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